


The Taste of You on My Lips

by Natasi (SwordDraconis113)



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 03:12:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1672586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwordDraconis113/pseuds/Natasi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She looks like Beth, even smells like her – at least, when she’s between her legs. And oh, Beth wasn’t into her, Beth was into Paul. Fucking Paul. But who cared, right? She could still fuck Beth Childs into bliss and Alison isn’t any different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Taste of You on My Lips

She looks like Beth, even smells like her – at least, when she’s between her legs. And oh, Beth wasn’t into her, Beth was into Paul. Fucking Paul. But who cared, right? She could still fuck Beth Childs into bliss and Alison isn’t any different.

She even tastes the same.

Looks the same; heels digging into her sheets, fingers in her hair. When she sucks on Alison’s clit, looking up at her, she can almost see Beth.

 _Did Beth fuck you?_ She wonders, curling her fingers inside, hitting the g-spot or the a-spot, or some fucking lesbian miracle that had Alison’s words falling apart until all she can do is pant and whine like a bitch in heat.

It hadn’t taken much to seduce Alison. Just the mere admittance of Beth, of their relationship over alcohol. Admittedly, it’d been an accident, but Alison looked at her like she was in awe.

Maybe she just wanted to be Beth, fucked like Beth. Well, sister. Today’s your lucky day.

When Beth came up dead, and it turned out that Sarah had been playing them, she admitted to wanting to fuck. Sarah’s rough, and god Angie would _love_ the opportunity to handcuff her hands behind her back again, fuck her over the hood of her car, but there’s something lovely about Alison. Suburban Alison.

Something that draws her in.

She likes how her hand gripped in her hair, how she doesn’t plead, doesn’t beg, but _demands_ to have her cunt fucked.

Well, Alison’s language is a little less crude then her own, and Angie had spent half an hour with the girl’s back pressed up against her chest, sliding her hand between her legs and making her tell her exactly what she wanted done to her.

_“Say it.”_

_“Angela…”_

_“Say it!”_

_“Detective…it’s….it’s…oh mercy, me. You can’t just-”_

_“Come on Alison, I can keep this up for a good hour before my hand starts to cramp. Little skill I got from writing all that paperwork for the force.”_

She’d whimpered, fucking beautiful to hear that sound from someone so highly strung. _“Now, tell me you want me to fuck you, and I will. Or I’ll keep teasing you until you beg for it.”_

_“Fuck. Me.”_

She grips Alison’s thighs, tugging her closer before her tongue runs along the length the cunt. The woman shudders violently beneath her, hips arching up as she tenses on the balls of her feet. “What would your husband say?” she asked, using two fingers this time to run the length, to see if she could make her shudder again. Alison delivered, a hand clutching to her breast, squeezing because Angie’s fingers are busy between her legs, or raking down her thigh. “If he saw you like this, with me?”

“Fuck Donny.”

Angela chuckls, bowing between her legs again. “Good answer.”


End file.
